


What Are You Wearing

by AEpixie7



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Beelzebub thinks it's hilarious, F/M, Gabriel really likes Beelz' fishnet socks lol, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), Masturbation, Phone Sex, crack taken somewhat seriously, don't we all, not graphic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 05:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7
Summary: Gabriel calls Beelzebub on the phone for some stress relief. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)





	What Are You Wearing

**Author's Note:**

> I CAN'T STOP WITH THE INEFFABLE BUREAUCRACY CONTENT SOMEONE SEND HALP.  
Loosely inspired by [this post](https://pentachilles.tumblr.com/post/186858541616/gabriel-is-the-reason-they-invented-tablecloths) on Tumblr.

There were a lot of things Beelzebub expected these days when her office phone rang. Dagon, inquiring about some overdue paperwork. Hastur, complaining about that damn leak again. Maintenance insisting they already fixed the leak and threatening to shove Hastur's head into the ceiling to stop the leak if he complained again. Things of that nature. 

The Archangel Gabriel, asking “What are you wearing?” … 

That was new. 

“Are you seriouszzzz?” she choked into the receiver, biting back a laugh. 

Gabriel sighed. “Yes, I'm serious. It's been a very stressful day and I…” 

“Gabriel… you are aware that that line is incredibly cheesy and usually earnzzzz an eye roll rather than a serious answer, right?” 

Gabriel sighed once again, louder and more dramatically. 

“Are you… wearing those socks?” he asked sheepishly. 

Beelzebub actually _did_ roll her eyes, her pen dropping out of her hand as she leaned back in her desk chair. 

“You're actually seriouszzzz.” 

“It’s a yes or no question, jackass, just answer me.” 

She tutted her tongue against the roof of her mouth, disappointed that she wasn’t standing in his presence so she could slap him for his attitude. 

She glanced down at her ankle, where her fishnet socks peeked out over her shoes, and grinned mischievously. She kicked her shoes off and plopped her feet up on the desk, crossing her legs at the ankles and wiggling her toes. 

“Azzzzz a matter of fact… I am.” 

Gabriel was quiet for a moment, before he sighed again. 

“You’ve never mentioned my socks before, Gabriel, why the sudden fascination?” she asked, fairly certain she knew the answer but wanting to hear him say it anyway. 

“It’s not a sudden fascination, Beelz, I like clothes. I always have, you know that. They compliment the body, when they're well made.” 

Beelzebub chuckled, her foot kicking absently as she coiled the cord of her office phone around her finger. “And you like the way my socks compliment _my_ body, do you?” 

Gabriel sucked in a breath, then quickly released it, the phone buzzing in Beelzebub’s ear from his rush of breath. 

“Y-yes,” he stuttered, and Beelzebub froze. Her heart fluttered as she smiled wide, pulling her feet off the desk and leaning forward in her chair so she could really appreciate what was happening. 

“Gabriel, are you… touching yourself?!” she practically shouted. 

“N- no, why would you *_huff_* think that?” 

Beelzebub bit her lip and had to cover the receiver with her hand so he couldn’t hear her squeal. She cleared her throat and moved her hand away, so she could speak. 

“So you're not, say… sitting in your office, in Heaven, with your hand down those impeccable trouzzzers of yours, wanking it to thoughts of me, wearing nothing but these socks, right? Because that would be unbecoming of an angel, now wouldn't it?” she asked, turning on the charm and allowing her voice to be a little more soft and sultry than was usual. 

Gabriel forced out another breath, before stumbling over the word “right.” 

“And of course, becauzzze you're an angel and, more importantly, the prestigious _Archangel Gabriel_, it wouldn't interest you at all to think about thezze ankles of mine, fishnet clad and trembling, perched on your shoulderzzz?” 

There was a rustling on the other end of the line, not unlike a phone being shoved against the lapel of a powder blue Armani sport coat, and a muffled cry that was most definitely not meant to be heard by the demon whose jaw dropped in disbelief. She waited until she could hear his breath once again, obviously more labored than earlier, before chiding him. 

“Did you just finish?!” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Um, no, I'm pretty sure you just fucked yourself.” 

“I knew calling you was a mistake.” 

Beelzebub pushed out her bottom lip in a pout, and made her voice coo as one does to a baby. 

“Awww, poor widdle angel. He’s had a hard day and hizzz demon fuck buddy didn’t wanna play telephone.” 

“I’m going to hang up on you.” 

“Good. Soundzz like you’ve got some cleaning up to do.” 

“Goodbye, Beelzebub.” 

“Now hold up! What are you doing _after_ you get yourself cleaned up?” 

There was a rather long silence, enough that Beelzebub almost thought he actually _had_ hung up on her. 

“What… did you have in mind?” 

She grinned wickedly. 

“Why don't we meet on Earth and discuszzz it.” 

Another long pause. 

“Will you wear the socks?”


End file.
